Normal
by csiAngel
Summary: Spoilers up to 4x14. "It took a while but in the end they returned to a semblance of normal…"


Title: Normal  
Author: csiAngel  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.  
Spoilers: Written after 4x14 so spoilers up to that point. Pure speculation for beyond there.  
Summary: It took a while but in the end they returned to a semblance of normal…

… … …

It took a while but in the end they returned to a semblance of normal. Days when one - or more – of them were confused as to what had been real and what was The Framework grew further and further apart. Moments where you might catch someone wistfully remembering their alternate life were now few and far between.

Now, life was just S.H.I.E.L.D. again.

They had seen off the threat of the Watchdogs; thwarted Aida's plans; they had established a safe haven for inhumans – public confidence was building daily. And they continued – as they always had – to be just what their name implied – a shield protecting the people.

It was as close to normal as the life of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent could get.

But, the trouble with normal – when you have experienced the extraordinary – is that it leaves you wanting more.

And it wasn't that Phil Coulson longed for the life he had led in the virtual reality. No, rather he longed for the life he had thought he was leading before he had found out the truth about the May Life Model Decoy. He longed for that moment when she was standing in front of him, offering to go away with him, asking him if he was ready to move forward. Waiting for him to kiss her.

He had allowed himself to admit that he was in love with Melinda May and he couldn't take it back.

He had promised himself, in the days after, that _when_ they found her (always _when_ , never _if_ ) he would tell her for real. But then The Framework had happened and, when they finally all made it back, May was weak and confined to the infirmary and Coulson had hours upon hours of questions to answer. He had tried to stay by her side but the real world had carried on and it wanted explanations.

As such, he had not been there when she first tentatively awoke. So Simmons had to be the one to tell him that her first sentence had been to ask if the baby was okay. Then she had asked for Andrew, before drifting into unconsciousness again.

He had been there ever since, though. He had watched her as she dealt with adjusting to real life by reconstructing the walls that had slowly been coming down. He had been sure to be there whenever she looked like she might break; to catch her if she needed him.

It had only happened once. Having seen the subtle signs that her anger was winning, he had watched her spar with Daisy. Her moves got faster and harder and in the end he had stepped in with an antagonistic, 'Is that the best you can do?'. Daisy had thought nothing of it, glad of the break, and she had left them alone.

He had blocked each punch, each kick, forcing her to put her all into every move. He soon worked up a sweat, fighting to keep up with her, and he had watched her frustration building to the point that she messed up a kick, giving him the opportunity to manoeuvre her into a hold, her back against his chest. He held her as she fought his grip and he placed his lips by her ear and whispered, 'Let go, May.' She had resisted for a moment longer but then his repeated encouragement had mingled with a sob that escaped her struggling frame.

And he had held her as she broke down. As she grieved the life that she could have had. As she cried for the family she had thought she was so close to. As she mourned the loss of Andrew all over again.

After that she had slowly begun to return to the May that they had known before she had been replaced. Not that the others had ever known that May had remained missing. That had been the first thing he had assured her of when she had settled in his embrace and the crying had stopped: He was the only one who had known something was wrong. He and Simmons were the only people who knew what she had experienced in The Framework and the young doctor wasn't good enough to have seen through May's act. No one else would even suspect.

So, now, everything was back to that semblance of normal.

And they were a year on from the day he had found out about May's decoy.

He noticed the date as he was sending an email to Maria Hill and he paused to ponder how different things had seemed back then.

"Problem?" May asked him from the other side of his desk.

"Huh?" he responded automatically, snapping out of his reverie.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."

"Have you sent that email?"

"Just finishing it." He typed the few sentences of information that were needed and hit send. "Done."

May closed the file that had been open on her knee. "That seems like a good place to call it a night, then."

He glanced at the time and hoped he managed to hide his disappointment that she was leaving so soon.

He realised he need not have been disheartened, however, when she placed the file on the corner of his desk as she moved and proceeded to open his desk drawer and take out the bottle of scotch and two glasses.

He could only frown as he watched her cross the room and sit down on his couch.

"I - … I thought you were –"

"Do you have plans?"

Even if he had, he would have cancelled them in a heartbeat. "No."

"Then come on," she instructed, tilting her head toward the seat next to her, "We're going to talk."

Panic gripped his chest. "Is something wrong?" he asked, out of his chair immediately.

"Relax, I'm fine."

"Don't scare me like that," he reprimanded as he sat down beside her.

With a roll of her eyes, she handed him a generous serving of scotch. "Don't be so melodramatic."

"When have we ever 'talked' about something that wasn't serious?"

"I didn't say this wouldn't be serious."

"You just –"

"You're too easy to wind up."

He narrowed his eyes at her but couldn't help but smile in response to the smile on her face. It had been a long time since he had seen it look so genuine.

He enjoyed the shared moment for a few more seconds then settled back into the cushions of the couch.

"So what do you want to talk about?"

She turned to face him, bringing her feet up and sitting cross legged. "You are going to tell me what happened with you and my LMD."

Phil was glad that he wasn't taking a drink at that moment because he managed to choke on the mere air he had been innocently inhaling.

Eyes wide, he stared at her. "What makes you think there's something to tell?"

"Aside from that reaction?"

"Yes," he glared at her amusement.

"You… You were watching me once we got back. That's how you knew I needed - …"

She trailed off but he knew what she was referring to.

"Well, I've been watching you too. And now we're going to talk."

He opened his mouth to try to dispel her concerns but she cut him off before he had uttered a word.

"And don't even think about telling me there's nothing to talk about."

He held her gaze – a stern gaze he normally wouldn't dream of ignoring. But as he thought about what she was asking him to admit, he also thought about everything she had been through since then. How broken hearted she had been when she collapsed in his arms. They weren't at the same place as when he had overheard her insisting that he wasn't dead; as when they had agreed to finally open that bottle of Haig.

He shrugged. "There isn't anything –"

"Phil… I've been watching you for nearly a year. I've known for nearly a year that we were going to have this conversation," she told him pointedly.

"There isn't –"

"Phil." Her eyes captured his and held them intensely. "I'm ready for us to have this conversation."

He was sure his heart had stopped. He was sure he was dreaming. And, for a terrifying moment, he was sure he was back in The Framework.

"Hey," she brought him back to her. "Don't go there. This is real."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I'll be kicking some ass if it isn't."

A laugh made it through his bubble of disbelief. "Then I hope for their sake that this is real."

"I hope for our sake that this is real."

"That too."

He knew there was a goofy smile on his lips but he had absolutely no desire to fight it. He watched as a blush rose to her cheeks and she ducked her gaze away from his.

"Are you going to stall much longer?" she asked him.

"So impatient. I haven't been preparing for this for a year, give me a minute."

"You've been waiting for this for a lot longer than a year."

"How do you know that?"

"Because, before everything went off track, this is where we were heading."

"But I had no idea what I was going to say when we got here."

"What did you say to LMD-me?"

He squirmed when he thought about that.

"Or didn't you do much talking?"

His eyes snapped to hers as he sought the words to assure her that nothing like that had happened. He found her grinning, teasing him. "Not funny."

"I disagree."

"… Actually, she made the first move."

"What did she say?"

"Suggested we try an alternative to toasting our survival."

May quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah… But we were interrupted."

"So you didn't even –"

"Later, she suggested that we go to Ireland to read Ulysses in pubs."

"That should have been a red flag: A little nerdy," she smirked.

"It had been my idea."

"I figured."

Her expression told him to continue his account.

"After that, she asked me if I was ready for whatever came next. Of course, I didn't know that what came next would be finding out that she was a robot."

"You weren't ready for that?"

"I should have been. I should have known it was too good to be true."

"But it wasn't. It made sense and you know it."

"She said her thoughts – her desires – were real. That they were yours."

"And you've wondered ever since if that was true?"

"At first I hoped it was true… I told myself that when we found you I would find out… Even if you laughed in my face, I was going to take the chance… Then - … Well, over the last year I've accepted that we missed our window."

"I don't think you have accepted that."

"Well, I've tried to."

"I should have told you that I –"

He shook his head forcefully to stop her blaming herself for any of this. "No. I understand. You couldn't know if you would ever - …"

"No," she agreed quietly. "But here we are. After everything we've been through…" She carefully placed her glass onto the table beside the couch. "Are you ready for what comes next?"

Again, Phil thought his heart had stopped. He was assured that it hadn't when he became aware of its pounding resounding in his ears. He put his own drink down – noting that neither of them had drunk much.

He looked back to her and met her gaze. There she was: Sitting in front of him, asking him if he was ready to move forward. Waiting for him to kiss her.

He tried his best to be manly about it, but he was trembling as he inched towards her.

"Will it involve robots?" he asked, to cover some of his nerves.

She shook her head. He moved closer.

"Are you going to laugh in my face?"

With a small shrug she answered, "No promises."

They shared a soft smile and when he reached out to close his hand around hers, he found that she too was trembling. He held it securely.

"Are you sure about this?"

She brought her free hand up and softly drew her fingers across his cheek. Then she leaned towards him and touched her lips to his. Just once, just gently. Too briefly.

She sat back merely a couple of centimetres, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder, and she met his eyes.

"I'll take that as a yes," he whispered. And he brought his own free hand up and threaded it into her hair, encouraging her closer.

At first their lips met tenderly, relishing the moment, committing it to memory. Then their joined hands separated so they could strengthen their embrace, and their lips moved more fervently in their exploration, and Phil poured every ounce of adoration that he felt into his first real kiss with Melinda.

He still couldn't quite believe it, but every logical explanation pointed to it being real. There hadn't been an opportunity to replace either of them; they hadn't encountered any mind-altering substances – or people; they weren't undercover. This was real and he was…

"Overthinking," Melinda muttered against his lips.

"Sorry," he mumbled back, continuing to kiss her as he explained, "I just can't… believe… this is… happening."

She brought both hands up to his cheeks, holding him still as she kissed him thoroughly before dropping back. He instantly missed her.

"How long do you think it'll be before you believe it?" she enquired.

He shrugged one shoulder, watching his fingers, permitted to play with her hair. "I may never believe it. It's pretty amazing." He redirected his eyes to hers. "You're pretty amazing."

At her adorably scrunched up nose he observed, "A little nerdy?"

She nodded but a smile crept over her lips.

As he leaned in to resume the kissing, he remembered the promise he had made to himself. Stopping just millimetres from his destination, he made sure he could see her eyes as he told her, softly, "I am completely in love with you. You know that, right?"

She nodded once. "I do."

His heart skipped as he saw her delight at that sparkling in her eyes.

Her fingers moved to the back of his neck, caressing him tenderly as she edged closer. "And you know that I was showing you the feeling's mutual, right?"

She had always favoured actions over words.

"Before I interrupted," he acknowledged.

"Before you interrupted," she confirmed.

"I should stop thinking."

"And talking."

She pulled him towards her and he obeyed.

And, just like that, things were far from normal again. But he could live with that: This was so much better.

THE END


End file.
